


Lightning in your veins

by TheLastOfTheReal_Ones



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angels, Aobajousai, Demons, Elves, Fukurodani - Freeform, Giants, Happy Ending, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Karasuno, Multi, Nekoma, Shiratorizawa, Vampires, Were-Creatures, kingdoms at war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastOfTheReal_Ones/pseuds/TheLastOfTheReal_Ones
Summary: Years ago, when the elves of Aobajohsai were still enslaved, their Goddess answered their prayers and created a creature out of sand and lightning, a dragon who's scales were made of impenetrable glass. Her chosen one successfully created a bond with the creature and became the first dragon rider to ever be. She was the hero of her people, and she became the first Queen of the newly freed Kingdom. As time and generations passed, dragons continued to come alive from lightning bolt and raging storms, in the middle of the desert where their future riders would find them.Now, hundreds of years later, war is well on its way and Iwaizumi Hajime, King of Aobajohsai, has been asked to choose a side. Either join Karasuno and their alliance with Nekoma and Fukurodani, or side with the Kingdom of Shiratorizawa, descendants of the ones ho had enslaved them centuries ago. The choice is easy to make.But war has its costs. And he's already lost so much. Conflict is imminent yet it's sure to take its toll on all of them sooner or later.If only he could know what Tooru would have said to him if he was still by his side.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Goshiki Tsutomu & Oikawa Tooru, Goshiki Tsutomu & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Semi Eita/Tendou Satori, Ushijima Wakatoshi & Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

_ 6 years ago. _

_ “Like the wind, your direction is ever shifting. You were never meant to stay still, your wings were never meant to stay pinned to the ground. Shards of glass are but a piece of you, and your beating heart holds lightning in its core, coursing through your veins like blue blood of pure magic. You’d glide through the air like the most graceful of omen and you’d roar louder than thunder if you’d only come alive. Rise from the sand and become beating heart and glass scales of impenetrable will. You were meant to fly as far as the eye can see, higher than the seas and the mountains. You are a ruler of the skies. Stand by his side and become his ally. He needs you.  _

_ They need you. Rise.” _

_ The beast painstakingly cracked open her eyes, and a small silhouette cut out against the grey of the stormy sky formed itself in her sight. Eyes like her own stared at her. They were gleaming in the scarce light of the night. And then they closed. The silhouette fell. She reached for it, and she nudged it with her muzzle. A hand reached for her and pressed against her heart. She felt the lightning course through her veins. _

_ Loud shouts rang in her ears as she tucked her elf closer to herself, and she watched as men dressed in purple stepped up to them, sharp weapons of steel drawn in the air.  _

_ She rose.  _

∼∼∼

Its piercing eyes surveyed the expanse of land its powerful wings carried it across and it soon spiraled over the prey it had located, neck craned to look down on the small silhouette below. Shrieking loudly, it descended on it, and the prey wasn’t fast enough to escape the grasp of its talons, grunting and writhing like a fish out of water when it took back to the sky, already set on its way to its final destination. 

The hunter outstretched his arm when the eagle spread its wings and gripped his forearm with sharp talons, leaving deep indents into the leather of his glove. The deer was dropped at his feet, and he bent down to pick it up, his enormous frame scaring the poor animal out of its wits. The giant gave one blow of his hand and the deer fell limp. He ruffled the eagle’s feathers affectionately, as a reward for a job well done. It chirped at him and took flight again, landing on a nearby branch to rest, tucking its head under its wing. It had been a long day.

The giant ate in silence, sitting down on the ground and watching the flames of the small fire he had started intently. Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about being spotted by anyone, the spell casted over the area he chose to rest at masking the smoke rising slowly in the sky. It would be as if the forest was left without a trace of his passage the next morning, and he could sleep soundly tonight. 

He had been travelling for days on end without stopping for a break. This was the first time in a while he had taken the time to sit down ever since he left home. But he couldn’t waste time, essential in these times and days. His nature also provided more endurance than it did to the common human, and that was why he had been chosen for this particular mission. Sleep deprivation, hunger or thirst would not stop him from reaching his goal. Even if he was to end up half conscious and barely still standing on his feet when he would step foot in the safe haven that was Karasuno, it would have all been worth the discomfort. He had a message to deliver, after all.

That night, the giant went to sleep without a single worry clouding his mind, certain that he would make it through and soon be back where he was most needed, home in the mountains of Date Tech. Only when he’d wake again, he’d find himself bound and kneeling on the cold tiles of a vast room, high pillars and archways supporting a ceiling that seemed to touch the sky. He could feel people crowding around him, most likely soldiers, armed to the teeth and obviously ready to take on a giant if needed. He stayed still. 

One of the guard noticed he was awake, and instead of informing his peers of the fact, he stepped toward him and threw something at his feet. The giant looked down and the corners of his lips feel downward. His heart drowned in sorrow at the sight of his loyal companion, laying dead on the floor, neck broken and feathers covered in dried dirt. He bowed his head to the ground, a show of respect and a last farewell, before he squared his shoulders again and stared ahead, past the sneer on the guard’s lips and up to the man sitting on the throne in front of him. It had been night when he had fallen asleep. Right now, though, he had no idea what time it was. There were no windows on the walls, only torches lightning up the room. The flames casted strange patterns across King Ushijima’s form. He looked even more menacing than the stories painted him out to be. 

“Your majesty, we found this stranger wandering the woods outside of the borders. From what we’ve gathered, he was on his way to Karasuno. There is a missive we found on him, addressed to King Sawamura.”

“Give it to me.”

A man with strange ash blond hair and a deep scowl set on his lips walked up to the soldier holding the letter and took it before turning back to the throne and walking up the steps separating Ushijima from them. He handed the piece of parchment to his King before bowing and taking his place again. The silence enveloping the room as if it was a spell no one could break out of was hanging heavy over their heads. 

When he finished reading, the King looked at him. His eyes were piercing and his presence, once it became noticeable in the giant’s head, was overwhelming. Aone felt his mind being forced open, revealing every of his memories to the man sitting meters away from him. Every thought he’s ever had, every feeling he’s ever known, every parcel of his being torn from him. Aone the giant willed his eyes to stay open, and his back to hold straight, because if he was about to die here, it would be with his honor still intact. He would not bow down to that man, not in this life, and not in the next. 

That day, the missive from Date Tech, asking for military support from the Karasuno Kingdom as the troops from Shiratorizawa closed in on their land, was destroyed. The world would learn of the fall of the Iron Wall of Date a day later, and Karasuno would be too late to save their ally, finding only destruction and ruins where once stood one of the greatest city of their realm. 

The tides had changed. War was well on its way. Ashes rained down like the darkest of omens as they scoured the land for survivors. They found none. And the Shiratorizawa banner hang high above their head, at the top of the mountain, for all to see.

∼∼∼

“We have to move on Shiratorizawa now, while there is still a chance of coming out victorious! They’ve raid Date’s mines, they’ve stolen all of the iron, we can’t waste time now!”

“We need a plan! For all we know, they could be expecting us as we speak! If we move too quickly we’ll be lost!”

“Do you hear yourself? We were lost the second they broke through Date’s Iron Wall. Do I need to remind you that their defenses were known for being  _ impenetrable _ !”

“They must have had someone on the inside, someone who could have sneaked past the gates and sneaked back in with Ushijima’s forces without being noticed.”

“Or the King used that cursed magic of his. Let’s be honest, no one from Date Tech would betray their own.”

“If that is the case, it’s all the more reasons to move now. We have to take them down before they can access our secrets, our defense and offense.”

“Daichi? What do you think?”

The King stared at his advisors, and then at Sugawara, his right hand man and best friend. The silver haired man was looking back at him, concern and exhaustion battling it out on his face for first place. The King gazed down at the table once more, arms crossed over his chest as he lost himself in his thoughts. All eyes were on him, and suddenly an old memory played in his mind, a memory of his early days as King, when the attention of so many of his Councilmen on him felt overwhelming and terrifying. Now, it weighted down on his shoulders like the greatest of burdens. He held all of their fates in the palm of his hands.

“Have we received any news from our allies in the south?”

“Nekoma and Fukurodani were quick to answer. They will stand as a united front with our forces when we move against Shiratorizawa.”

“And Aobajohsai?”

Sugawara shared a look with Asahi, from where the advisor sat on the other side of the table, and the answer was evident even before the tall strategist spoke up.

“As of now, we’ve heard nothing from them. Whether that is because they’ve decided to remain neutral or because Shiratorizawa has intercepted their missive, we don’t know.”

A loud sound echoed against the walls as Tanaka banged his right fist against the table. He seemed agitated, like always, but this time it was not out of his usual boisterous energy, but out of pent up anger and a feeling of helplessness that hadn’t left anyone of them alone for days now.

“What if they decide to side with Shiratorizawa? We should have left them out of this or sent an incentive at least! We’ve never been on good terms with those desert witches!”

Kiyoko’s gaze was harsh when it met Tanaka’s, and the man sat back down with a wince taking up his face, reminded just by a scathing look from the woman where she was from, and how another word against her people would prove to cost him. She normally had nothing much to say against Tanaka’s wild character and his booming voice, but insulting Aobajohsai was where she drew the line.

“If you think my brother would side with Ushijima, then you’ve truly lost yourselves. Any tension or bad blood between Karasuno and Aobajohsai is nothing compared to the hatred Aoba has held for centuries against Shiratorizawa.”

A tired sigh escaped Daichi’s lips, his exhaustion catching up to him as he closed his eyes and straightened his back. When he opened them again, Suga’s worry was clear as day on his face, Asahi looked so anxious the King wouldn’t have been surprised if the glass hearted advisor started crying, and Tanaka still hadn’t muttered a word, back hunched and chin tucked against his chest, too ashamed to meet Kiyoko’s eyes. At least her anger had softened down to worry once more.

“Kiyoko.”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“You know King Iwaizumi better than anyone here. Will he answer our call for help?”

Kiyoko’s gaze did not waver as she stared at him, confident and ever so convinced of the truth behind her words. When she spoke, Daichi felt as though he was sent five years in the past, during his first meeting with King Iwaizumi. Hair black like a night sky, pointed ears, eyes green like the scales of the dragons the Aobajohsai warriors had learned to live alongside of, and an aura of power hanging above his head like a halo, untameable magic running through his veins. Kiyoko was much the same, with the only difference being that her skin was a shade paler than the bronze tan that Iwaizumi harbored, and her magic never manifested on the surface of her body. But their voice, when they spoke, held a strength no one would deny. They were warriors, commanders born.

“My brother will come when he is needed, your majesty. He will not sit by and watch innocents die if he can fight as well. And if it means the fall of Ushijima, you can rest assured...”

He never thought he’d live to see the day where Kiyoko would look vengeful, and ready to fight, with clenched fists and pupils slit like the ones of the dragons she protected. Her whole being echoed of the burning, red rage of dragons’ fire. She seemed truly indestructible right then.

“Aobajohsai will join you in your fight.”

∼∼∼

Iwaizumi woke up that morning to the golden light of the sun and the sound of his men training from the courtyard. He reached out with a hand to find no one resting by his side, the sheets cold and the rest of the room empty. There was only him, the wind rushing past the archway from the balcony and the warm rays of the sun. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the curtains flowing gently in the breeze, then back at the empty space on his left. The grip of steel around his heart tightened painfully, and he got up, unable to look any longer. He didn’t have to glance in a mirror to know his magic was making a dark red hue spread across the skin of his neck and his arms. Pain had always colored itself scarlet on him. That was the curse of his powers. He could never keep his emotions hidden.

Regardless, he got dressed and made his way out of his bedroom, then out of the royal chambers completely, stepping into the west hallway. Matsukawa was at his side in an instant, and the amiable silence they shared was more than enough for them. The warrior knew when his King was in no mood to talk. Today was such a day. 

And so the King carried on with his duties and responsibilities, barely taking the time to eat a suitable breakfast before promptly going to hear of his people’s demands and problems, and meeting with his advisors to discuss the matters of the imminent war against Shiratorizawa. When he first heard word of the attack on Date and of Sawamura’s ask for help, Iwaizumi had felt his blood pounding in his ears, his mind crying for him to send back a letter stating that they accepted the request. Had he been the young King he was five years ago, he might have. Only he was not that man anymore. And those decisions were not of the kind you made alone. Some members of his Council would have to be convinced first.

Iwaizumi was a great King, and he knew how to shape his words and exactly when to address every aspects a war demanded they addressed so that those who might have still needed convincing would agree with him. After all, if there was one thing they all desired, it was their people’s wellbeing and survivance. Giving in to Shiratorizawa would only mean being chased from their homes and most likely killed. Iwaizumi would never have that. His respected advisors and the noble class of the kingdom would not either. The only option left was for them to fight.

And if there was something else, something that urged him on toward this war that would surely all cost them, something that had Iwaizumi’s blood boiling in his veins and had the King wishing for Ushijima’s death at his own hands… it was just one more reason for them to send out their troops and march on Shiratorizawa alongside Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani.

Matsukawa was the one to give the reply the King had written to the servant who would deliver it to King Sawamura. He watched the shifter transform into a panther, the letter secured in a pouch wound around their neck, and the silhouette swiftly disappeared into the jungle that stretched out on the lands to the west of the palace. They would not get caught, the escort securing their way from up above would make sure the message was delivered safely. Dragon and panther were long left behind as he made his way back to the King, carrying on with his duty as royal guard for the rest of the day. It wasn’t a very exciting afternoon. The King had to train his troops, and Matsukawa sat back and watched the soldiers practice drills after drills until the sun set in the sky. 

Soon, the two men were making their way back to the King’s chambers, and Iwaizumi was just about to open the door when Matsukawa finally voiced the one thing that had been taking up his mind for the better part of the day. It wasn’t easy, for either of them. It would never be. Matsukawa had lost his best friend, after all. And that was not something you moved on from over night. Even if it was so long ago.

But Iwaizumi… he had lost so much more. The soldier was reminded of that when his King looked back at him after he’d just spoke.

“We’re doing this for him too, right?”

He stayed silent, and Matsukawa was ready to leave it at that. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Maybe it’d be better if they both forgot about those words and woke up the next morning without mentioning anything. He had already turned around and started down the hall when he heard the faint whisper of the King. It sounded as though the man couldn’t really believe what he was saying. As though just voicing this would be enough for the sliver of hope they had held out to shatter completely.

“If we’re not too late.”

∼∼∼

_ 6 years ago, Kingdom of Aobajohsai. _

_ “The legend of the Dragons of glass was one that roused great marvel. It was a tale most knew to be true yet could not believe, and only a lucky few could say they’d seen the astonishing spectacle. It remained, for the people of the Kingdom of Aobajohsai, a favorite and most prized tale. Dragons were creatures to fear and their riders were a selected few of the elite’s fighters that commanded respect.  _

_ Desert Dragons, as they were commonly called, had always been in the Kingdom’s history and were spoken of, in the ancient times, as if they were Gods. They were beasts that outlived the oldest of men and were loyal, fierce and dangerous allies to the royal family for generations, ever since the first Queen of the land. The hero of old that had risen up to defeat the ancestors of the Shiratorizawa’s royal family had freed her people from their forced slavery with a dragon at her side. And the elves had risen once more. _

_ It was said that the first dragon was a blessing from the Goddess of sand, who had heard her people’s call for help and answered their prayers. She had spoken to Iwaizumi Deruyi, her chosen one, in a dream where she whispered to her: “enter the desert in a fortnight, at dusk, when the storm rages on. There, you will find aid.” The elf did as was asked of her and her people saw her off, at dusk a fortnight later, with a final farewell and hopes murmured in quiet breaths. The woman marched forward into the late hours of the night. Her feet carried her on dunes of ice cold sand and her eyes stung from the strong gusts of wind and stray grain of sands. _

_ When finally she met this aid the Goddess sent her after, it was to come face to face with lightning striking down at her feet. She had been pushed back by the force of the impact, and in her ears rang a loud, shrill sound. She had gotten back on her feet, her eyes scouring what she could see of the ground before her. If anything, maybe the blessing was the sand that had melted into brilliant shards of glass. She’d bring it back to her people and hopefully their ancients could decipher what the Goddess intended for them to find in this occurrence. _

_ But as she bent down to glance at the spot the lightning had struck, the smoke blinding her, she saw a movement from the corner of her eye. A small shift, coming from under the smoke. That’s when she first laid eyes on the slit pupils and glass like scales, and she lifted her hands to the sky, thanking the Goddess for her gift. _

_ She came back at dawn, a large shadow trailing after her, and the ones waiting for her were stunned when they caught a glimpse of glass shards woven into scales and sharp edges, and the form of a magnificent Dragon took shape in front of their eyes. Deruyi only smiled when she stepped in front of them, and her eyes screamed with the might and strength that would later serve to be her greatest weapon in both war and rule. _

_ After that night, many more Dragons of glass were born. To this day, at least one came to life each year, and the people of Aobajohsai would sing prayers of gratitude to the Goddess of sand that protected them still every time a new rider formed a bond with the newly born Dragon.” _

_ Just as she finished her tale, Kiyoko heard her brother come through the door. She looked up and waved him over before hurrying the children along, promising another story soon. Little Rio was the last one to disappear behind the garden’s door, sending one last giddy smile and a wave her way before scurrying along with the rest of servant’s children. Her brother had made his way to her already, standing by her side. They were both quiet for a few moments.  _

_ Kiyoko glanced at her brother from the corner of her eye, and she was expecting to see a smile on his face, and maybe the usual goofy grin he had every time he got so quiet. But she was met with a frown like the ones she’d only ever seen once or twice before. He wore that exact look when he stayed at her bedside that time she was so sick she couldn’t get out of bed. He was worried. And besides his family, there was only one person that could ever warrant such emotions to show on her little brother’s face. _

_ The squadron was supposed to have returned today. That was why she thought she’d find him smiling. Except maybe complications had arised.  _

_ “Hajime? Did something happen?” _

_ He remained silent, and she thought she’d have to ask again, only that was when her brother decided to break out of his trance. He took a step forward, then another, and the tension in his shoulder became all the more obvious as he sat down in front of her and leaned forward until he could hide his face in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. It was silent again, and she didn’t dare break it.  _

_ Hajime let out a shuddering breath before he looked up at her again. Worry danced in his eyes and painting itself across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, manifesting into little turquoise stars on his tan skin. The tip of his long ears shifted in what she assumed was discomfort. He looked down again, hiding from her gaze she knew had changed into the one of a dragon. She always had more trouble keeping her powers in check when she had reasons to believe she should be concerned. _

_ When he spoke, it was a few trembling words murmured under his breath. _

_ “They’re missing.”  _


	2. Antebellum

“King Sawamura, we’ve received news of Aobajohsai.”

“Perfect. Let the messenger in.”

The shifter shuffled through the door the guard held open for them. When it closed behind the elf, Daichi stepped forward and the visitor bowed down before handing him the letter. The seal, unsurprisingly, was King Iwaizumi’s. Karasuno’s monarch opened the missive and read through the lines, a satisfied smile making its way to his lips as he did so. 

The foreign Kingdom was responding to their call for a military alliance. Aobajohsai would send troops to converge at the meeting point of the war council. King Iwaizumi will lead his men himself, leaving his trusted advisor Yahaba Shigeru in charge of the palace’s defenses, as well as enough men to hold out Aoba’s defenses against any invasion the country could suffer. Daichi would have to send him the coordinates he and his allies had decided upon. It was in Fukurodani’s territory, where they were certain King Ushijima intended to strike next. Shiratorizawa’s troops would be met with more defensive power than they’d hoped when they’d march on the land of the owls. 

They already had a good number of men in their army, and Ushijima would have been forced to take a step back with the defense he’d be met with once in Fukurodani. However, having Aobajohsai on their side was an advantage they simply couldn’t overlook. The elves were trained fighters and magicians, much like Daichi’s own men, and they excelled on the battlefield. The royal family of Aoba, especially, was known for their excellent skills in combat and the raw power they possessed. No one in their right mind would want war with the desert witches, as they were called. Daichi had been keen on forming an alliance when his father passed and the throne became his. He’d been thrilled when the new King of the foreign land had agreed to a meeting with him to discuss such a treaty. 

But what really made up Aoba’s reputation as one of the most powerful countries on the continent wasn’t their spells of their armies. No, what made them so terrifying enemies and perfect allies were the dragons. Beasts no weapon could cut down and a single spell only two mages across the Kingdoms had mastered could harm. Rulers of the skies, Kings in their own right, Kiyoko had told him. Those dragons, even in small number, could bring down armies on their own. Pair them up with the unmatched strength of the riders the creatures formed a spiritual bond with on the day of their birth, and you had the most lethal of weapons at your disposal.

Ushijima wouldn’t stand a chance against the Kingdoms’ combined efforts to take him down. Even with the powers his armies held, even with the angel’s cursed gift of mind reading, Shiratorizawa wouldn’t win. Daichi would not let them decimate another of his allies like they had Date Tech. Even if it was to cost him his life, Ushijima _would not_ take Karasuno. 

The King looked back at the shifter in front of him. He thanked them with a nod and, after having made quick work of writing a reply with the coordinates to King Iwaizumi, Daichi sent them away. They most probably didn’t want to linger here for longer than necessary. The elf took their leave and he was left alone in his study again. His smile wouldn’t fade away. 

Things hadn’t even started yet. War was waiting, ahead of them, just down the way to the end of too short peaceful times. They would lose so much, as did everyone when heading into battle. They’d have to bury friends, and family. Allies and enemies alike would fall one after the other. Such was the way of the fight for power, and survival.

But now, the gift of a Goddess was on their side. The Dragons of Glass would clash against angels.

∼∼∼

The morning dew made droplets of water sparkle like stars under the early rays of the sun. It was like walking on little bits of crystal, or maybe flying above the clouds, the mist curling at their feet. It made for a wonderful sight, this field of lavender yet to bloom. And for men such as them, walking to war, it was a small sliver of peace in a cruel world that they would remember even in the depths of battle. 

King Iwaizumi, riding up front, was leading them toward the armies’ settlement with King Daichi’s instructions. When they first left the capital, the foot soldiers had come up with theories about that letter their King had in his hands. Without anything better to do than walk and nothing to distract themselves with, it soon became a game of who was right and who was wrong. There’d even been one of the captains of the troops that had taken bets on his guess. His fellow captain had obliged with a smirk. Her men knew she’d win that bet. She’d been the one to open the letter for the King and plan their itinerary with him. 

Some said the words on the piece of parchment were enchanted by the human King and that no one besides their ruler could read it, so that there would have been no chance of a successful interception before the missive could reach Aobajohsai. Others said the letter was in a language only known by the monarchy of the Kingdoms across the alliance. Someone suggested that maybe the letter was just an ordinary letter, with standard black ink on normal parchment. After all, the man had said, the letter had been guarded by a highly trained fighter and a dragon ever since it left Karasuno. That idea was quickly turned down, however. Not interesting enough for an army of mages.

It would later become known to the soldiers that the letter was in fact enchanted, but it was the seal that contained the spell, not the ink nor the paper. Captain Amanai was more than happy to collect her due from the bet with a bright smile on her lips, her men cheering for her. Captain Yuda had grumpily relinquished the hefty sum he’d bet on his earlier theory.

As of now, though, King Iwaizumi was still leading his troops to the alliance’s meet up point, having tuned out the sound of his men discussing the letter in his hands. Instead, he focused on reevaluating their current situation, going through all of the information he knew in his head to try and come up with a plan of action, or at least the start of one. He’d be meeting up with the Kings upon arriving at their destination, and he’d like to be able to offer the beginning of a plan to excuse his delay to the war council. 

He knew King Akaashi’s scouts had spied a squadron from Shiratorizawa into Fukurodani territory, hiding in the mountain pass just a few kilometers away from their shared borders. Semi Eita was also spotted amongst the enemy soldiers. Needless to say that a sighting of the general of the opposing army in the adversary’s territory was a cause for concern. 

They could always use what little time they still had before Semi realized they were being watched to surround the mountain and lead an attack on the squadron under the cover of night and the stormy weather of the mountain pass. 

But chances were Semi was expecting them, and that he’d been acting as a decoy since the start so that they’d focus on him, leaving themselves open for an attack from another front. After all, the general of the Shiratorizawa armies was a smart man. Something told Hajime that if the angel wanted to remain hidden, he would have.

They arrived at the settlement just as the sun was setting in the sky, it’s last rays offering well needed light to the tired men to set up camp. Hajime had been greeted at the wooden gates of the settlement by a man from Karasuno, a tall and broad human that he expected to be a soldier. He soon learned that Azumane Asahi was an advisor to King Sawamura, and that he had been nicknamed “the glass heart Giant” by his peers. Apparently, he lived up to the moniker. Azumane led him to the tent he’d been told was where the Kings would hold their meetings. 

The council was already gathered when he stepped inside, his generals in tow. The Kings of Fukurodani, Nekoma and Karasuno were all standing around a large table where laid a map of the Kingdoms, and by looking at it, it seemed they’d placed pawns in the nations’ colors where the troops resided. Aquamarine pieces had joined the orange, red and gold of the three other countries, and purple ones were situated in the mountain pass of Fukurodani and at the enemy’s shared border with the owls. There had been a new development, it seemed. That changed things. Now, there was no way they could attack the squadron hidden in the mountains without alerting the nearby troops that had probably already started to move toward the middle of the land, view set on Fukurodani’s capital.

Hajime lifted his eyes from the map to look back at the war council, offering his greetings. King Sawamura was standing to the left of the table with his generals, Sugawara Koushi and Michimiya Yui, at his side. The human King nodded in acknowledgement as he looked back at the newcomers, his serious look giving way to a welcoming smile. But even his grin couldn’t outweigh his exhaustion, or the dark circles below his eyes. 

The King of Nekoma, sitting on a wooden chair to the right of the entrance, offered him a curious glance before looking back down to the map, assessing gaze trailing on the pawns sprawled across the paper. Hajime could almost see the gears working inside his head, analyzing and shaping out plans after plans, wondering which one would have the highest chance of success. Kuroo Tetsuroo was a man of great skills and his intellect had only for a match the sharpness of his wits. Having the strategist on your side guaranteed your plans would be seen through to the end quickly and efficiently. Hajime was grateful to know they'd be fighting together. Alongside the man stood his husband, Kozume Kenma, the General of Nekoma’s armies. You wouldn’t think much of him with just a glance, but the young man was actually a powerful mage and shapeshifter, as well as a gifted fighter.

King Akaashi Keiji, ruler of Fukurodani, was standing on the opposite side of the table, back straight and shoulders squared, arms crossed on his chest. His wings were tucked by his sides. Feathers of dark grey and charcoal black haloed him in such a way he looked almost menacing, a dark omen to the battle. Fukurodani and Aoba had always had amicable relations, and Hajime found himself relieved he never had to face the man’s armies on the battlefield. The stories painted the winged warriors as cunning and strikingly powerful. After all, to secure a land as vast as Fukurodani and protect it against all sorts of invaders for so long on their own, showed extreme levels of strength.

“King Iwaizumi of Aobajohsai, your majesties.”

Azumane slipped out of the tent as soon as he’d presented him, hurrying along to take care of other matters that required his attention. Hajime marched up to the table, and he heard Mattsun follow in his wake, stepping just beside him. As his advisor, he’d attend the meetings of the council and assist his King. The man bowed once in a show of respect before the Kings and got back on his feet. Tall and lanky, with tired eyes and messy black curls, he posed no threats and would remain, in most people’s eyes, just a simple retainer. However, should anyone attempt anything against Aoba’s monarch, they’d come to know exactly why Hajime had made Matsukawa Issei his personal guard. 

King Akaashi leveled Mattsun with an assessing look before his eyes found Hajime, and the winged fighter addressed him with a respectful nod. Suddenly, the thought that Fukurodani’s ruler was one of the two sorcerers that had mastered the spell to slay a Dragon of glass came to Hajime’s mind, and with it a reminder that the only other would be standing on the opposite side of the battlefield.

“King Iwaizumi, it’s an honor.”

He had no idea if the man was honest in his claim, or if it was for the sake of diplomacy only, but he couldn’t care less if it was a lie. He didn’t intend to show the extent of his powers, and what needed to be proven would be once the fighting would begin. For now, if his reputation painted him as savage prince who became King in a night’s time and had only his father’s legacy to grant him honorable feats, he could live with that.

“The honor is mine.”

King Akaashi seemed satisfied with that answer, and soon King Kuroo was talking, a quirk of his lips betraying his amusement and a mocking look in his eyes shining along with the glow of the candles lighting up the room. He seemed arrogantly confident in his capacities. Only time would tell, though, if the rumors of his intelligence would precede him or not.

“Then, shall we begin?”

∼∼∼

Five days, they’d been at it, five days, and nothing anybody said would be agreed upon by everyone. Five days spent hearing plans after plans being formed and ideas being refused. Five long days in which they only managed to agree that attacking form the mountain’s pass would do them no good if nearby invading troops would sweep in and engage them in battle with reinforced equipment and the advantage of numbers on their side. Bokuto, Akaashi’s retainer, had proposed to send a large part of their shared armies to apprehend General Semi’s men, but was met with the rebuttal that, should they send too many men, they’d leave themselves open for attack by other fronts and would therefore have no one to protect the rest of Fukurodani’s territory. King Daichi had suggested they send men to reinforce the border’s defenses, but since it had already been breached, better to concentrate their efforts on protecting the cities Shiratorizawa would soon march upon on their way to the capital. The council’s settlement was just a day on horseback away from the nearest village to the border. They had already dispatched a division to go guard the village. Should they hear words of Ushijima’s army trying to take it down, they’d be ready to counter.

But as for a plan of attack, they were nowhere near an agreement. Hajime stifled a sigh as King Kuroo and General Sugawara continued to argue across the table. General Michimiya was talking with General Kozume, but the discussion seemed to be going nowhere. King Daichi had sat down in his chair with a tired look on his face and seemed to be reviewing the information they had added to the map with careful yet exhausted eyes. The war council was in disarray. Hajime couldn’t hear his thoughts over the booming voices arguing next to him. 

That was how King Akaashi found them when he entered the tent, and the disappointed glare he threw at the quarreling men was enough to submerge the room in a deep silence. The winged ruler made his way around the table until he stood in his usual place, and Bokuto joined his side with his head bowed in shame. Even though all of the attention in the room was already directed at him, King Akaashi cleared his throat and trailed his eyes from one of them to the other before he spoke, his gaze cold.

“My source in Shiratorizawa has informed me that Ushijima will send his troops to march on Saïda at dawn. We will depart tomorrow morning to engage the invaders when they attack. Seeing as it will give us a better front of attack, we will set out camp just outside the village and remain there.”

The man was met with silence once again as everyone processed the information, and King Kuroo was already reaching for the pawns across the map to relocate them when Hajime spoke up.

“How reliable is this source?”

King Akaashi’s face was unreadable as their gaze met. Hajime had come to learn that it often served as a sign to mask one’s anger. His questioning was apparently not welcomed. But considering Aoba’s history with Shiratorizawa, could you blame his wariness? Distrust was a given when it came to anything related with the angels, even if Fukurodani’s source may seem like a helpful hand. 

“I am confident the information my source has given me is true. Had I doubted it, I would not have shared it with you.”

Hajime had to swallow back a scoff. He could feel Mattsun’s hand on his shoulder, and he knew his friend was warning him, alerting him that his powers were surfacing. But he had a point to make, damn his magic.

“I was not aware we were keeping information from each other.”

The monarch’s wings flared up at his side, ruffling the grey and black feathers, and the irritation in Akaashi’s eyes was no longer concealed; rather than keeping up his mighty appearance, the man was openly glaring at Hajime. It seemed the tension had finally caught up to the stubborn royal standing across from Aoba’s ruler. 

“We are not.”

“Then you won’t mind telling us exactly who is your source, your majesty.”

Hajime had almost expected the King to draw his sword or outright scream at him, but he had certainly not expected the man’s anger to morph into a look of exhaustion. Akaashi leaned against the table with his arms propped on top of it, and a deep sigh left his lips. His shoulders dropped and his gaze fell on the map. Tired eyes met Hajime’s. There was a reluctant acceptance painted in them, and it angered the elf to see the King looking so defeated by the events.

“I know yours and Shiratorizawa’s history. I know of the bad blood between your two countries. I wish I could offer you more than this, but the fact is: I promised I would not reveal my source’s identity and I am a man of my word. Please believe that I understand how frustrating it feels to rely on the words of an enemy. I mean no offense with my decision and I urge you to forgive my secrecy. With this in mind, I truly hope you will not step out of the alliance. We gain nothing of keeping secrets from you, and we don’t stand a chance against Ushijima without Aobajohsai’s military support.”

Not a single sound could be heard in the tent after Akaashi’s last words echoed in the air. It seemed as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Hajime’s answer. The man wouldn’t dare pretend he was not conflicted. On one hand, they risked stepping into an elaborate trap orchestrated by Ushijima himself to bring them all down. On the other, he might pass up on his one chance to rid the world of Shiratorizawa’s wicked King. 

In the end, the decision was easy.

“Aobajohsai will not step out of the alliance. I trust your judgment, King Akaashi, and if you truly think this source of yours says the truth, then we will fight by your side.”

Akaashi’s smile was relieved. It lasted a second before it was gone, and then the King straightened up and bowed his head in gratitude. Hajime answered with a nod of his own.

“You will not regret this, King Iwaizumi.”

“I’m sure.”

∼∼∼

Kiyoko had been so wrapped up in her duties these last few days, she had not been able to find enough time to go greet her brother, who had arrived five days ago already. Even if she did, however, she doubted Hajime would have had any time to spare so they could catch up. The council’s meetings, as she knew from King Daichi, were not going as swiftly as each party had hoped. No one seemed to be able to agree to anything. Prideful men. Always the same. 

Hajime would have probably been too busy to talk and would be exhausted from his travel, so it was almost as well that they could finally meet up tonight. Since the troops would be marching west tomorrow first thing in the morning, they had all night to prepare their departure. Her duties in Karasuno’s court was to oversee the men’s training in both magic and swordfight. It left her with an evening of free time, since no solider would be training tonight. 

When she entered her brother’s tent, she found him hunched over a stack of parchment and a bottle of ink, right hand wrapped around a pen. He seemed deep in thoughts, a faint green tainting his forehead. Green as in worried. 

“I almost expected to find you at the training grounds, destroying the hell out of targets. Or maybe sharpening your swords. You used to do it every evening before battle.” 

Hajime smiled, eyes still scouring across the letters written in neat rows on the parchment. A drop of ink fell from his pen and the paper soaked it up. The King let out a sigh, finally lifting his gaze from the report he was half way through finishing, and met her stare. It had been almost a year since they’d last seen each other. Time went by rather quickly, it seemed. Kiyoko sometimes still felt like her baby brother was just a child, a little boy running around the castle’s halls and laughing loudly as she chased after him, pretending to be the monsters from the stories they read together. 

But right now, she could see it. The flow of time hadn’t spared them, and she wasn’t facing a six-year-old boy anymore. No, she was facing a King, her dear brother who had fought his fair share of battles and was heading into another one not a day from now. Her little Hajime had become a man, a leader and a warrior. She smiled, she couldn’t help it. 

“You make your people proud, Hajime. You make me proud.”

A little bit of the exhaustion in her brother’s eyes seemed to be leaving him as he smiled up at her, the green turning to blue. Happiness. 

“Thanks, Shimizu.”

“He would be, too.”

Blue to purple. Nostalgia. 

Kiyoko sat down on the cot next to him, and she read the content of the report over his shoulder. She took the paper from his grip and ran her thumb over the dried ink, and it disappeared, leaving the light beige of the paper untouched. Her brother threw her a look and she stole the pen next, picking up from where he’d left off, and they spent the rest of the night perfecting the letter, catching up as they did so.

It was a small moment of peace before a war.

∼∼∼

Dawn bathed the land in soft purples and pinks as the soldiers chased the dark colors of the night, the skies painted in blue and black on the horizon. They’d be marching into battle alongside the sun. Hajime might have found the landscape as beautiful as his men did, had he not been so lost in his thoughts the outside world seemed so far away. 

He was riding in front of his troops, and beside him rode Mattsun and Hanamaki, his trusted General. The man had not been present for the war council because he’d still been in Aoba, watching over the riders that would make their way here after the rest of the troops had left. They hadn’t wanted to risk being spotted too early, which tended to happen when you were atop a huge dragon flying in the sky. So, they’d kept moving the dragons for last. They had arrived during the night, under the cover of darkness, to not be spotted. Makki had joined him this morning, tired but satisfied, and Hajime had welcomed him with a smile. Mattsun and Makki were two of his oldest friends, and knowing they’d be by his side as they fought Shiratorizawa was truly a blessing.

“Hey, Iwa, how’s it going down there?”

“Yeah, must be infuriating to be the smallest again, huh?”

Well, as much of a blessing as those two annoying idiots could be when you put the two of them together.

“For the last time, I am not small. You are just abnormally tall jackasses.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Hajime did his best to ignore their shit eating grins from either side of him, but it was easier said than done. However, he kept the usual threats under wraps, this time. He could commend their valiant efforts to try and cheer him up with their usual bickering. They were, after all, good friends, and were trying to help him. So, for this once, he’d be nice. And in this case, it meant to stay silent.

It seemed as though that was not the reaction they were expecting, because they quieted down too. Finally, Makki broke the silence between them, but it wasn’t with his usual humor. 

“You know he wouldn’t want you to die trying to avenge him, right?”

The King stiffened in his seat, mind going blank for a minute. He didn’t answer his friend, eyes trailing in front of him, and his General sighed deeply before looking up ahead as well. Mattsun was the one that spoke up next, hands tight around the leather of the reins.

“We know what you’re doing. We get it. You think that maybe, _maybe_ , if you kill Ushijima, things will be alright again. You think that there’s a chance he’s out there, and that he’ll come back when the war ends.”

There were so many colors on Hajime’s skin not a parcel of it was its usual shade, and for a moment, Makki almost thought the King was about to burst in flames, burned from within by his raging magic. But the elf didn’t die. He refused to meet their eyes, though, stubbornly set on looking at the mountains on the horizon instead of them.

“But, Hajime, you need to face it. He’s… it’s been six years. Maybe it’s time to accept that…”

Mattsun didn’t finish his sentence. They all knew what he meant. There was no need to say it aloud when it was the only thing in their mind.

_He’s not coming back._

∼∼∼

Kiyoko joined his side as they rode across the rocky banks of the river that would lead them to Saïda. She spared him her concern, but he could see it in her eyes. He knew she’d probably heard what Makki and Mattsun talking with him earlier. She always had enhanced capacities, but her hearing had always been the sharpest of her five senses. And she used it every time she deemed it necessary. 

They were both quiet for a while, lost in their thoughts. When his sister spoke, it seemed like her words echoed in the air between them, and Hajime latched onto them, branded them across his mind. 

“We will kill him and everyone who stands in our way. You’ll get your revenge, Hajime, at all cost.”

He smiled, and his magic flared up at his fingertips, a burning cold. In the distance, they could hear the sounds of drums, announcing for all to hear that war was upon them.

∼∼∼

His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, and his breath fogged in the chill air as he exhaled. He neared a corner and picked up his pace. Faint chatter could be heard from the room he stopped before, and when he entered, Ushijima was met with the sight of his little brother. Tsutomu spared him a look before hurrying out of the room, throwing a wave of goodbye over his shoulder. The King’s gaze followed his retreating form and soon, he heard him running up the steps to the west wing, his feet padding against the cold stone of the stairs.

When he couldn’t hear anyone anymore, he turned around again. Faced with their beastly eyes glinting like flames in the scarce light, he snarled. The creature’s gaze burned into his back as he slipped out of the room. The door was locked again as the King left.

The dragon’s eyes intently watched the door, as if she was expecting someone to come barging in again. She nudged her elf with her muzzle and he stirred, carding his fingers along the scales on her head. She laid her head down on his lap again, guarding his sides as he guarded hers. Even in slumber, they couldn’t afford a moment of weakness. Six years spent living in this hell taught them that.


	3. Prima acie

They’d successfully pushed back Ushijima’s troops before they assault Saïba. It had not been easy, the fighting lasted two full days, but the number of casualties Ushijima suffered were far greater than the very small number of men they’d lost on their side. They’d emerged triumphant out of their first battle, and the euphoria that coursed through their ranks like wildfire was well earned. Hajime slept soundly that night, and for the first time in a long while, not a single nightmare came to plague his dreams. It was a restful night.

The next morning brought worrying news to the war council, and the victory of yesterday was forgotten. Ushijima was attacking the other cities close to the border, and one of them had been breached. The city of Yora had fallen in the clutches of Shiratorizawa last night while they were fighting the troops sent to Saïba.

They would need to create a defense strong enough to protect all of the lands Ushijima was planning to attack. 

To dispatch their troops in all of the threatened areas Shiratorizawa would try to take had its difficulties. They’d need to decide how much men to send to every city so they could hold their own against the invaders’ attacks, but they still needed to cover every town Ushijima could attack, and that would need for them to separate their armies into enough divisions that their defenses would be enough to sustain the battles coming their way while also being efficiently dispersed around the Kingdom.

And they’d need to worry about weapons and armor, provisions, healing, horses, the most efficient way for them to use the dragons’ help against the angels…

The war council discussed all of those aspects and more in what little time they had to prepare before their troops were being sent to every town close to the border that could stand in Ushijima’s way as he tried to breach further into the land.

And then, there was the city of Yora. 

King Akaashi was adamant the city needed to be reconquered at any cost. It was a harbour city of great importance. The local market had trade deals with Karasuno, and the marchants made the journey by boat. It was an entry way to the land of the crows, and the consequences, should Ushijima decide to send troops to head up the river, would be disastrous. However, the missive they’d received had informed them that the angels had not yet been able to access the port. 

Strong enchantments protected the river and a big part of town so that, in the events of a war such as now, the city would be protected. The owls had always been known for the power of their spells, and King Akaashi ensured them that Ushijima would not be able to break through before their troops arrived and pushed him back out of the city.

But the battle promised to be one for the ages, with what the city represented for Ushijima, so the Kings concentrated their efforts there. They would send most of their men to protect the other cities, but they would march on Yora themselves. 

A week later found them fighting against soldiers dressed in purple, defending the survivors of the attack and slowly but surely making their way to the barrier the spell created around a good part of the city. They were fighting on all fronts, from up above in the skies to down below on solid ground. Hajime had two dragons fighting the angels alongside King Akaashi and his men, up over their heads. Shiratorizawa’s troops didn’t stand a chance.

Things down here were going well too. Nekoma’s troops had been dispatched along the barrier from the north side of town, and Aobajohsai’s were coming up from the south. That left a narrow corridor going east of the city the invaders could take to flee as they closed up on them from two sides, but karasuno’s troops were waiting for them at the eastern gates. 

Even with the large number of men Ushijima sent, they wouldn’t make it out of here alive. They were done for. Their fate was sealed. 

He cut down the man in front of him before blocking the strike aimed at his back, turning around and swiftly dodging a kick to his right leg. He pushed against the steel of his opponent’s sword and the soldier went tumbling down from the force of it. Hajime pushed him over the railing of the stone bridge they fought upon, and the enemy’s skull cracked on the rocks below. The King didn’t look back as he made his way further up the bridge, running a man through with his sword and shielding himself behind the man as an archer fired at him from the top of a building near his position. 

He heard the sound of an arrow cutting through the air and the dull thud of a body hitting the ground. He didn’t need to glance up to know the archer was dead when Kiyoko came to join him on the bridge, her footsteps silent on the cold stones. His sister had her bow in hand and her arrows rested in the quiver strung over her back, the steel tips glowing an eerie blue. Enchanted to cut down their target with one strike. His sister offered him a smile as they ducked behind the railing, evading the fire spell aimed their way.

“Don’t you have a King to protect?”

“King Sawamura understands family comes first in times like these. It was easy to pick up your trail.”

“... What’s that sound?”

Kiyoko sighed before she shot an arrow up to the fire mage, striking him in the shoulder. He fell in the water and joined his companion from earlier with a loud screech. Hajime looked back at the deserted street he’d just cleared and the faint sound of screaming grew louder. Finally, appearing from a corner, in the obsidian armor Karasuno soldiers all wore, came two men running up the street screaming at the top of their lungs.

Hajime’s eyebrow quirked up comically.

“I see you have admirers.”

The dejected look on Kiyoko’s face pulled a laugh out of her brother’s throat. The two of them watched as Tanaka Ryūnosuke and Nishinoya Yū ran past them on the bridge and leaped at the poor unsuspecting soldiers waiting from across the bridge, war cry even louder than before. Hajime had to admit, the two of them made for a good attack team as they crushed anyone standing in their way in a matter of minutes. 

His admiration for them evaporated faster than a drop of water under the harsh sun when they both turned to Kiyoko and started kneeling on the ground, praising her with embarrassing declarations of love more suiting of rather bad poets than soldiers.

His sister heaved out an another sigh before making her way to the other side of the street, quickly disappearing behind the corner. Hajime followed her and the two lovesick idiots were not far behind as they engaged the men standing in front of them. 

Kiyoko actually took the time to start up a conversation as they were striking down two axe wielders. Her voice had that tone to it that Hajime knew to associate with a scolding.

“I thought Matsukawa and your men would be by your side.”

“We went our separate ways a while ago. Better chance to win back the city if we divide our forces.”

“One of our men against a dozen of theirs is not how we’ll win back the city.”

“Even if that man is the King of Aobajohsai?”

“Even if that man is the King of Aobajohsai.”

Hajime smirked as he stole the axe from the fighter and sent it flying across the street. It took the archer hiding under a cart of fruits down. The King took the axe less soldier down before coming up to the man fighting against his sister from the back and snapping his neck. 

He had to dodge an arrow she shot straight at his head. He looked back just in time to see an angel crash to the ground, raised sword falling by his side.

“Thanks.”

“Come on. We only got a few streets to clear left.”

∼∼∼

They fought their way through the last of the purple soldiers, and an hour later, not a single inch of the city was occupied by a Shiratorizawa banner. King Akaashi had gone to reassure his subjects, waiting on the other side of the barrier, that they would be able to return home soon enough. After the bloodshed had been cleaned, and the enemies were buried. The troops quickly covered the city and put the gates back up. They sent men to patrol the walls protecting the city, to make sure they had the situation monitored. With their men perched up along the barricades, they’d see any attack coming from a mile away. 

Now, the only thing left to do was gather information.

Talking with the civilians would prove useful if they wanted to gather more information on how Ushijima’s troops operated to push past the strong defenses that were raised to protect the gates of Yora. It was primordial that they figure out how the Kingdom of Shiratorizawa could breach every of their defenses so easily.

Talking with the chief of the guards cleared up most of their question. 

The man was in his mid sixties yet stood as tall and proud as a young soldier would, shoulders squared as if he was expecting a fight every time he entered a room. Getting him to talk had taken Hajime twenty minutes. The soldier was proud and wouldn’t take the blame. He kept saying the angels had their patron God’s blessing on their side, and that was the only reason why they could breach the city’s defenses. King Kuroo, who had came to assist him in his questioning, rolled his eyes at the old man’s rambling.

But at one point, Hajime was able to get out some useful information out of him.

“Of course, those bastards from Shiratorizawa would have never been able to move into the city if all of our men were there the night they attacked.”

The two Kings shared a look as the old man sat down in a chair in front of the hearth. The chief had his back turned to them, staring into the flames. He’d fallen silent for the first time since they stepped into the armory connected to the eastern gates.

“Where were the rest of your men?”

“We’d sent a squadron of ten men a day prior to look for the Governor. He went missing a week ago. Went to bed one night, and the next, his residence was empty. He didn’t flee, all his money and possessions were there. We searched the whole city. Nowhere to be found, that man.”

A Governor missing, ten men on horseback sent to track him down, and an attack no one saw coming a day later.

The Kings left the old man to his rambling after that. They had a scheme to discover, and there were still pieces missing they needed to find.

The war council gathered that same night, in the Governor’s residence, on the outskirts of town. They gave their leave for the night to all of the servants still working to keep the place clean and alive. What they were about to discuss needed to be kept a secret. In times of war, allegiance and loyalty could be bought. Only the Kings would know about the discovery they’d made tonight. No one else was to be trusted. 

As they stepped into the drawing room of the Governor’s manor, King Akaashi walked up to the windows on the wall to their right. They had a view of the whole city from here. Tonight was a new moon. The only source of light came from the torches and the hearths of the town. The orange glow lit up the dark night like fireflies spread across Yora. Hajime could see the distant silhouettes of soldiers patrolling from atop the walls, and beyond, the river was pitch black against the deep blue of the sky. 

King Akaashi didn’t spare them a look as he motioned for them to start talking. Hajime leaned against the doorway as he gazed at the men in front of him. The Kings were restless and agitated. Who could blame them? 

“We all know of Ushijima’s gift. He can tear a mind apart as easily as he breathe, and has become a master in the art of telepathy. If he knows what to search for, there’s no doubt that he will uncover the secrets of anyone who crosses his path.”

King Kuroo continued for him. From then on, they picked up where the other left off, sharing what they’d discovered tonight as the others present listened to every word they said with great attention.

“Until now, we’d only had a few hypotheses on how Shiratorizawa took down the Iron Wall. We suspected he had used his powers on one of the few people who knew how to move past Date’s defenses. With the information we’ve gotten out of the chief of the guards, we can guarantee that is exactly what happened.”

“We also know how the troops were able to infiltrate Yora to bring down the gates from the inside.”

“A week ago, the city’s Governor disappeared. People thought he’d fled, but all of his belongings were left here, in his house. That fact would indicate that the Governor was taken from his house, under the cover of night. According to the chief, he’d went to sleep one night and the next morning, he was nowhere to be found.”

“We don’t know yet how Ushijima would have managed to sneak one of his men into the city to kidnap the Governor, but we did find out how they put into action the information they got out of the missing man.”

“A day before the attack, a squadron of ten men, some of the finest soldiers the city has, were sent to look for the Governor. They’d been instructed to send a missive to the chief once they found him, but no one has heard from them since they left. Everyone assumed they were still searching.”

“After we went to interrogate the chief, we asked around the barracks for any information they might have. Some of the soldiers said some interesting things to us once we got them to reveal what they knew.”

“The night of the attack, the patrols let through ten men wearing Yora’s crest. They’d come back from a hunting trip, apparently. The men at the gates thought nothing of it.”

“We believe these ten men to be spies Ushijima sent to infiltrate the barricades and bring down the gates. Once that was done, Shiratorizawa’s troops could easily attack Yora’s defenses and march into the city.”

“The problem that remains is that we have no idea if those spies were killed during our attack earlier, or if they still hide amongst our ranks.”

“We intend to do a thorough search of the whole city to unmask them and procede to question them.”

King Akaashi was silent for a long moment after they’d finished talking. His hands had curled into fists and he was clenching his teeth, his jaw tense. Fukurodani’s ruler was livid. Learning his ranks had been infiltrated had brought a great fury to surface in him. Hajime could only imagine the anger he felt, knowing that he could not even trust his own soldiers to be who they pretended to be. 

Feathers darker than the night sky, feathers grey like the most ominous of clouds, flared as the King’s wings spread to their full, grand span. When he turned to face them, his eyes were thunderous and furious. Akaashi Keiji was a raging storm on an open sea hidden away in a single body.

“Find the spies. And once you’ve succeed, I will kill them for the crimes they’ve committed against my people.” 

∼∼∼

Finding the spies had been harder than they’d hoped, but they succeeded. Four of them had slipped through their grasp and before they could react, their bodies collapsed on the floor, shaking with convulsions and writhing like fishes out of water as the poison coursed through their veins. They’d lost another two to vengeful soldiers, who’d lost their loved ones during the attack. King Akaashi hadn’t punished them for their murder. Those five had done what all of the fighters around the city yearned for. Death to the killers.

The four left were thrown into the cells below the barricades, and questioned. Hajime was waiting by the stairs when King Akaashi surfaced from one of the holding cells. The man’s rage had simmered down to mere frustration during the last hours. The King of the elves climbed up the stairs beside the King of owls and the two of them walked along the top of the walls in silence. 

The council was waiting for them, and, as they entered the room, all eyes were on them. 

Tonight, Ushijima’s scheme would go down into the abyss and would not rise again. For once you’ve unmasked the truth, the same deceit doesn’t work twice on you. The last pieces were coming together and Shiratorizawa would be countered every step of the way until the war ended. Hajime would make sure of that. No more deception, no more tricks. Without a breach, there would be no leak. A Kingdom you can’t invade is a Kingdom you can’t fight.

King Akaashi rounded the table until he stood in his usual place, and his eyes fell on the map and the pawns resting still as statues on the table. There had been an addition to the aquamarine pieces. Small dragons of glass were standing guard over the towns, looming little figures on the map. Fukurodani’s ruler reached for one, plucking it from the array of red, orange, aqua and gold. 

The winged warrior held it in front of his dark eyes, his features pulled into an undecipherable look. There was something in his gaze, though, that had Hajime on edge. The elf felt his magic prickling his fingertips. Warning him.

But whatever he thought he’d hear coming out of King Akaashi’s mouth, it wasn’t this.

“A Dragon of glass obeys Ushijima.”

He almost laughed out loud.

“That’s impossible.”

Fukurodani’s King finally lifted his gaze from the dragon pawn and met his glare. Cold russet eyes searched Hajime’s for even a hint of uncertainty or dishonesty. 

“Is it?”

Hajime gritted his teeth, knuckles white where they were gripping the edge of the table. This man was questioning his word, and he hated it. He could feel the irritation rising up his chest and threatening to transform into full blown anger, should the owl decide to rile him up even more. 

“Yes, it is. Every dragon ever born in our land was accounted for.”

The two rulers were in the middle of a staring contest, glaring at each other from across the table, when someone cleared their throat to gain their attention. 

King Kuroo crossed his arms over his chest and trailed his gaze from him to King Akaashi once or twice before he looked back down at the map spread out across the table. When he spoke, Hajime could tell he was being mindful of his words; trying to appease the situation and to avoid any risk of offending either of them.

“That, King Akaashi, is a grave accusation you just made. Especially since it is based off of the word of a spy working for King Ushijima. However, and I’m sure you’ll agree, if those words were to be true, it seems apparent King Iwaizumi had no part in it.” 

King Sawamura stared thoughtfully at the border drawn on the map, eyes running across the line. He laid his palms flat against the table before he started talking, his voice quiet.

“Aobajohsai has nothing to gain from crossing us. And to barter a sacred creature in their culture is below them, especially considering their history with Shiratorizawa. Although, the information King Akaashi has just brought to the table cannot be overlooked. If it were to be true, it would explain how Ushijima could kidnap the Governor without anyone noticing. The dragon would come down from the sky, take him and be on his way back in a matter of minutes.”

King Akaashi, when pressed by Nekoma’s ruler, was coerced to agree. With any talk of betrayal on Aoba’s part cleared out, the interrogation could begin. Because if there was no chance of King Hajime and his people having sided with Ushijima, there was the possibility of foul play on the angels’ part still left to discuss.

“King Iwaizumi, is there any chances our enemies could have stolen a dragon from you without you noticing?”

“No. Not a single force in this world is strong enough to take down a fully grown dragon, without killing them. It would leave the day of their birth, but a dragon’s creation never goes unnoticed. A day before their birth, their rider feels the connection building in their mind. It urges them to walk into the desert and go find their dragon.”

“What if the rider had died, and their dragon was born without anyone to bond with?”

“That’s impossible, the bond forbids it, even if it’s not completed until the rider finds the dragon. When one dies, so does the other. The dragon would have simply never been brought into this world.”

King Kuroo rubbed his chin with his right hand, lost in his thoughts. He started playing with his wedding band as he said:

“What about a rider that’s never come back?”

Hajime’s blood turned to ice in his veins. His vision blurred and his words were muffled when he spoke, as if he was hearing himself talk from far away. His mind denied the thought before it could even completely form inside his head.

“It can’t be.”

He must not have spoken loud enough, because the three men continued talking without minding the interruption.

“Maybe Ushijima sent his men to take the dragon just as it was born and the rider was killed before the bond could truly form.”

“Since the dragon was already there, but the connection wasn’t completed, the dragon wasn’t touched by their rider’s death.” 

“King Iwaizumi, are you aware of any elf that went into the desert and was found dead, yet the dragon was gone?”

Hajime shook his head to clear out his thoughts, but he knew it wasn’t going to change a thing. His mind was reeling, and he couldn’t help but curse the Goddess for what was unfolding before his eyes, here, tonight. He spent so long trying to quell the hopes in his heart, to convince himself this day would never come, and yet here he was.

He had to remind himself he was a King, a King with the duty to protect his people from all threats they could face, a King serving his people, first and foremost, as he answered King Sawamura.

His voice broke anyway.

“There is… there is one. But… but the rider wasn’t dead. He was just… gone.”

The three men shared a worried glance as King Iwaizumi continued, and they were all too caught up in the moment to hear the snap of the wood under Hajime’s hands. The man’s skin had turned a deeper shade of red than the colors painted across Nekoma’s banners. No one in the room knew what red meant to the King. 

His words, this time, were not broken but cold and distant. As if whatever distress he felt seconds ago had turned into anger as the realization dawned on him. 

“Six years ago, the former King of Shiratorizawa had heard of the imminent birth of a Dragon of glass. Mad with power, he had a squadron of his men march into Aoba’s desert and search for the creature. They came armed, and they took the dragon, as well as the elf that had been sent to find her. We don’t know what became of them. I thought they’d been killed. It seems the Ushijimas have found a way to control them.”

The room was silent for a few seconds after Hajime was done talking. King Akaashi was the one who broke it, eyes set on the man standing across from him. There was a look in his eyes the elf couldn’t read, but it became clear when the owl softly put down the dragon pawn on the table. 

Hajime’s breath caught in his throat when the little dragon was struck with a spell, and it shattered the piece of glass. Aquamarine shards crumbled down. They were turned to dust before they could clatter against the table top. 

“Controled or _not_ , I’ll make sure they meet their end.”

∼∼∼

Tsutomu clutched the strap of his bag in his hands, sending the few snowflakes that had nestled atop the fabric swirling around in his wake as he picked up his pace. He could hear his heart beating like a drum in his ears. The icy wind bit at his cheeks and neck. He threw a look over his shoulder when he heard the guards doing their rounds coming up to where he was, and he started running as they came closer. If they caught him, he’d be in big trouble. He might be prince, but disobeying his brother, the King, would not go unpunished. 

He let out a sigh of relief as he reached the empty streets of the town, far enough away that the guards would not come looking for him. He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath, panting and sweating under his heavy coat. He was standing under the branches of one of the ancient trees scattered around the capital, some of the last monuments of great importance to their history. Tsutomu stared up at the tall oak tree shielding him from the snow, and he couldn’t help but admire its resilience. To survive across decades of a cold like this one took more strength than any army would ever possess, the young man was sure of it. He wouldn’t have lasted a year, he was pretty sure. 

It was dark out tonight, and the clock would soon strike three in the morning. The streets of the city, so busy and crowded during the day, were deserted this late into the night. Even the taverns and inns had closed their doors. The silence submerging the capital was an eerie kind of calm, but it was what Tsutomu was counting on. If no one saw him running along the streets, no one could tell his brother where to go looking for him. 

When the burning in his lungs diminished to a faint discomfort, and the sharp ache in his ribs had dulled, he left the safe haven of the oak tree and its quiet street, walking as fast as he could toward the center of the town. He swung the strap of his bag around his neck so it wouldn’t only hang by his shoulder anymore, and he started his trek further into the heart of the capital.

It wasn’t until the fifth street he’d crossed, on his way back from where he came from an hour later, that he noticed the three men following him from a street away. He could see them watching him from the shadows of the buildings around them when he looked over his shoulder as he rounded a corner. 

His panic rose in his chest with a growing intensity when he realized the strangers were catching up to him, fogged breaths into the dark night giving them away. Tsutomu hurried past the market place he’d finally reached and ducked into an alley, hoping he could disappear fast enough they wouldn’t catch sight of him escaping. 

He cursed under his breath when he found himself backed up in front of a stone wall too tall to climb up on. He could always try and fly away, his wings flaring at the thought under his coat. But before he could make another move, the three men were standing behind him with daggers in their hands.

Wakatoshi would have killed him for sneaking out and getting killed by a bunch of thieves, he was sure of it. His brother would have brought him back from the dead just so he could kill him again. At least, three years ago, he would have. 

Now, Tsutomu thought as he turned around to face his attackers, he wasn’t so sure. Things had changed in the span of three winters, people weren’t as strong as they used to be.

The events that unfolded from that point on came in such quick succession that the prince barely had time to send one last prayer to the Gods as he readied himself for a painful and slow death at the hands of those thugs.

He’d closed his eyes and shielded his head with his arms in a valiant if pitiful attempt to protect himself. He’d expected to receive at least one stab wound followed by a searing pain by now, but nothing came. Instead, he heard the thuds of bodies colliding with stone and the sickening crack of bones as they were shattered. 

He was met, when he dared open an eye again, with Tooru’s chocolate eyes trailing over his form, searching for any injuries, most likely. The tips of the elf’s ears shifted and his mouth quirked up into a smile when he found nothing, and Tsutomu would have celebrated with him the lack of mortal wounds on his person had he not been so shocked.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Tooru rolled his eyes at him as he took him by the hand and pulled him away from the alley and the bodies of the thugs, laying still as the dead in a blanket of pure white snow. The prince allowed the man to guide him away from the scene and they emerged into the empty market place. Tsutomu could only stare as Tooru let go of his hand and stepped closer to the dark form hovering over them on the street.

Amare moved closer to him and only stopped when her muzzle stood an inch away from his nose. She sniffed the air around him, and Tsutomu knew she was searching for the smell of blood on him. She huffed in satisfaction when she found him unharmed. The warm puff of breath tickled his cold cheeks and ruffled his hair, and the prince couldn’t help but laugh. 

He could have sworn he saw Tooru smile from the corner of his eye. 

Later, as they were flying over the town, up in the skies, Tsutomu couldn’t quell his curiosity anymore. No one knew he’d left his room, no one could have known, or else he wouldn’t have managed to get out. How did Tooru even find him, and what was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be locked up under the castle, like always when Wakatoshi didn’t need him? 

When he asked, the other man sent him a look over his shoulder. A strong gust of wind surged past them, and Amare dove to fly closer to the ground, steady wings spread out to break their fall. The prince tightened his grip around the elf’s waist, afraid to fall if he didn’t hold on. He’d never been a fan of heights. Strange, for an angel, but he did always stick out like a sore thumb.

Tooru answered him when the wind stopped hissing in their ears. He shifted in his seat, and he loosened his grasp of the leather reins in his hands. Amare knew the direction back home, she didn’t need him to guide them across the sky. 

“Your brother let me out an hour ago. He needs me to join Semi in the Fukurodani Kingdom. They’re walking on Damaris tomorrow, while the Kings are busy with Yora. As for how I found you, you can thank Amare. She followed your trail and it lead us to you.”

“My brother sent you after me?”

Tooru sighed into the cold night air, and that was enough of an answer for Tsutomu. Wakatoshi would be furious. He probably wouldn’t be allowed out of his room anymore, not that he could before. The elf seemed to sense his distress. It must have been evident in the way he let his head fall forward, and his forehead hit the other’s back. Amare let out a rumble from deep in her throat, her own way of comfort. Tsutomu petted her side in a silent thank you.

“He’s worried for you.”

“Three years ago, yeah. Now...”

Tooru clasped his hand over the prince’s, and Tsutomu stared down long enough to catch sight of the oak tree he’d seen earlier. They were almost there. Yet Amare didn’t take the courtyard’s direction, where Wakatoshi was waiting for them, arms crossed over his chest. She circled the castle’s towers and took her sweet time to delay their descent.

Tsutomu took it their conversation wasn’t done.

“You might be right. But he still cares. Even if it’s… dulled.”

“It’s _gone_.”

“He would never hurt you.”

“He’d read my mind if he could. It’s only thanks to the spell mother put on my mind that he can’t, and it eats at him everyday that he can’t control me like he controls everyone around him. Even you.”

“Tsutomu...”

“You know I’m right.”

It was quiet between them for a few seconds, a solemn kind of silence they didn’t want to break out of. Tooru knew he was right. And neither of them knew what to say anymore. Yet Tsutomu wasn’t done.

“I miss him.”

The young prince almost regretted saying that to the elf. Tooru had been through so much because of the Ushijimas. It seemed cruel, to lay his regrets bare before a man who had lost everything at the hands of his family. Sometimes, Tsutomu wondered if Tooru hated him and Wakatoshi as much as he’d hated their father. It scared him, to think the elf would leave him here, with those cold winters to go through, alone.

But Tooru had never left. The prince wasn’t sure why. 

His worries were pushed to the back of his mind when the man he would consider his brother in all but blood gave an encouraging squeeze to his hands. ‘Things would be okay’, the gesture seemed to say. 

“I miss him too.”

Amare began to head for the courtyard after that, and Tsutomu felt his heart rise up in his throat as the dragon brought them closer and closer to his brother with every meter crossed between them. 

Tooru whispered ‘better start working on your excuse now’ as they touched down on the ground, and the prince couldn’t help but mutter ‘It’s not an excuse if I just wanted to get out of my room for once.’ The disbelief was clear as day in the rider’s eyes as the young man dismounted. Tsutomu gave a grateful pat to Amare’s neck when the dragon faced him, and she nudged his forehead with her muzzle before lightly pushing him in his brother’s direction. 

He took a deep breath as he turned around and started walking the few steps separating him from the King, waiting at the top of the stairs.

He really thought no one would notice his disappearance. To think he hoped he’d get away with this. He was in for the scolding of a century.

**Author's Note:**

> I think elves fit kinda well with Seijoh since their symbol seems to be plants and elves have always been tied to the earth... and Nekoma as vampires because why not? Date tech are giants, Karasuno are magicians and humans (I think, I'm not a hundred percent sure yet about the human part, maybe half crow or something?) and Fukurodani will be half-human, half-owls. Shiratorizawa will be angels. Mean angels. Because I needed villains and I'm not good at creating OCs. But they're not all bad. They have their reasons.  
> Anyway, I hope you like this and leave comments to let me know what you think!


End file.
